There was a time when I was daddy's little girl. When the sun rose and set around my father. My mom loves to remind me of the time when I was 5 and very specifically told her so. Even when they divorced all I wanted was to be daddy's little girl. It didn't work out that way. My dad went on to start his 2nd life. I went on to start my 1st.
It's over 10 years later. Now I look at my daughter, who believes that the sun rises and sets around her father. He's the fun parent. The background noise to writing this post is them giggling and laughing as they wrestle and hold dancing contests. They cook, play sports, read and live for one another.
It doesn't bother me nearly as much as it did my mother. It probably never will. Maybe it's because I know how much a girl needs her daddy. Maybe because I never, not even in his death, gave up waiting for my own to come around.